Code of Hammurabi
by razra
Summary: FMAxHP fusion/AU. Roy Mustang graduated from Hogwarts and decided that he wanted nothing from life except to find the people responsible for his parents' deaths. To do so, he must first survive as an auror.
1. Ensnarement

**Code of Hammurabi**

**Ensnarement**

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><p><em>If anyone ensnares another, putting a ban upon him, but he cannot prove it, then he that ensnared him shall be put to <em>_death._

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><p>When I was young, I witnessed my parents' death. Perhaps it is not accurate to say that they were my parents, rather they were my adoptive parents, but they were mine nonetheless…And perhaps witnessed was not quite the right word either, but I am not, nor ever will be, prepared to open that particular Pandora's Box.<p>

By the time that I grew to understand what had happened, what I wanted most was… to say revenge was not quite accurate, but to say justice was simply too noble. I no longer viewed the world in black and white, as I no longer believed in the strict codes of good and evil. I had since realized that there was grey as well and that was where my mind currently resided, swinging back and forth between the light and dark like a pendulum.

Perhaps compensation was more accurate? No, not the kind with money and lawyers; interacting with the corrupt lawyers was not in the least interesting and I no longer worried about money ever since I had come of age; life insurance and two wills ensured that.

What I wanted was compensation for the past I had lost and for the future that was now writ for me. I no longer had the freedom to choose what I wanted; there was now only the goal that lay before me.

As they say, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

When I graduated Hogwarts, it was not a lie to say that people were surprised. I was a Slytherin who had graduated with high marks, enough that I rivaled even the Ravenclaws. I was not exactly popular in my house as I did not care for the idiotic trials of pureblood. In fact, it might be enough to say that it was people like my housemates that I wanted to bring down, but if I ever mentioned that to them, well, they would have killed me. So I learned deceit and how to step quietly amongst the enemy, hiding what I truly believed and thought.

In my third year, I had a breakdown. Lying was simply too much. I became bitter at the hat who placed me in the house amongst enemies and I became frustrated with my housemates who made me become what I wasn't.

But then, who was I, really? That certainly was the million galleon question wasn't it? Well, if anything, I knew one word that certainly defined me.

"I'm a fool…"

"Yes, you are." I looked over to see a blond Gryffindor looking like she was reading a book, but I knew she wasn't; she was somehow watching me out of the corner of her eye. At the time, there was no one else around.

"What do you want, Hawkeye?" I paused and stared at the red and gold on her clothes. Stupid colors were mocking me. "And what are you doing fraternizing with a Slytherin? Won't your other Gryffindor buddies shun you?" I smirked bitterly. "Or are you and them above all that?"

"Why do you care, Mustang?" She closed the book and trained her red-brown eyes on me. It felt like her gaze was piercing through me and it was disconcerting. She studied me for a bit, sighed, and got up. "I guess I was wrong about you." She muttered shaking her head in disappointment. I watched her leave wondering what the hell that was about.

However, even after a few days, her words still nagged at me, and it was driving me crazy. Why couldn't I forget about it?

Though, I had to agree that she did have a point. Why did I care? What did it matter? So what if they all were stupid and annoying? I was going to change things, and their stupidity only acted as fuel to my goals.

I felt better after that realization. It was strange.

"Thanks," I said, passing her one day and flashing her a small smile. Some of her Gryffindor friends stared bug-eyed at me, but I didn't care. What did I care what they thought?

Yes, I could do this. My time here was only a trial, a test, if you will. An obnoxious test... and it was only the beginning of such trials; I could tell. If I couldn't pass this one tiny test, then what right did I have to continue down on this path, even if it were a path I never agreed to?

After that, Hawkeye and I became secret accomplices; secret because of our houses (after all, who would condone a relationship between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, whether it be of friendship or otherwise?), and accomplices because of our goals. It was a small comfort that I was no longer alone.

After graduating, I took the next step with her by my side. We applied to be aurors.

The training was grueling and there was no guarantee that we would pass, but still, we pushed on. There was nothing more I wanted at that very moment than to become an auror. Nothing. That was what I kept in mind, and when I forgot, Hawkeye would harshly remind me.

Even so, at times it felt like everything and everyone was against me.

For example, when I met the auror for the psych eval, I think that woman hated me the moment she laid eyes on me and was determined to toss me out. But I was fairly certain she would find nothing in my head that would disqualify me, though there was no way that I could be sure.

Hawkeye had a tougher time than I since she was applying to be an omniscient. She didn't mention anything when she came out, but she looked very pale. I didn't ask. It simply wasn't my place.

…Six months passed and then came judgment day. We had…

We had passed, somehow.

Our records were clean; our psych evals were clear or clear enough that they would accept us. We had become aurors; however, the trials and tribulations only began from there.

There was no way we could have known what we were getting into. I was a fool to think that it would be simple once I was in and that this was the end. I was completely wrong.

This was only the start.

…

But then again, maybe it was appropriate to call it an end.

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><p>AN: I'm sorry, I can't stick to a project or even finish one. Please don't kill meeeeeeeeee.. ||OTL

I feel so uninspired to work on my other stuff though.. *shot*

But um, do let me know what you think…

~razra


	2. Creativity

**Code of Hammurabi **

**Creativity**

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><p><em>If a freeborn man strikes the body of another freeborn man of equal rank, he shall pay one gold mina.<em>

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><p>I've heard it said once that wizards were the worst type of criminals because of their ability to use magic, but I've wondered about the validity of the statement; muggles can be very <em>creative<em> with what they have and oftimes, it's so much more messy.

I can't say which is worse, but I don't think that it really matters. In the world of homicides, the result is always the same: one more life brutally cut short.

My footsteps echoed eerily in the hallway despite all the forensics bustling around me who were busily packing up the crime scene. I nodded to Hawkeye as I passed her; since we were the newbies in the department, we were doing a stint in the muggle world before we could be trusted to take on cases of the magical kind. I guess the upper-ups thought that it would be a fantastic introduction to illegal activities.

Unfortunately, our stint had coincided with the work a serial killer.

I stopped just before the dead body, my fists buried in my pockets, and looked down at the fifth victim. She would have been considered pretty: brunette, hazel eyes, heart shaped face…

Yes, very pretty save for the signature double-slashed throat and dried blood matting her face, clothes, and surrounding area. Then there was the other MO… I could feel the blood drain from my face as my eyes moved down toward her torso.

Truthfully, this was my first time seeing a dead person at the crime scene (all the other crimes had been petty.. or at least, petty compared to this one) and whatever powers that be had decided that my first experience would not be an easy one. No wonder Hawkeye had looked slightly pale and clammy when I'd passed her. I swallowed hard and turned away from the body before I could lose it and instead studied the room.

The other victims had been low paid waitresses whose bodies had been found in various locations around the city, usually outside. On the other hand, this woman was a secretary found in her home by a concerned brother; the killer was quickly devolving and the time between deaths was decreasing.

So what was the trigger? Why go from waitresses to a working woman?

I was studying a photo of the fifth victim and her friends smiling in front of the Eiffel Tower when there was a voice behind me. "That bastard… When I get my hands on him, I'm going to drag his nose through the dirt like a bad puppy."

I turned to look at the other man. "If that really worked, the government probably wouldn't spend money paving roads." He cracked a wry smile, and I extended my hand toward him. "I don't think we've met yet. I'm Roy Mustang from-"

"Ah, so you're Roy Mustang?" He reached for my hand and grasped it. "I'm Officer Maes Hughes. Newly appointed, myself." He gave me a grim smile and turned to look at the room. "So, what were you thinking?"

I messaged my brow. "The horrors of man, in general. More specifically?" I sighed and looked at the scene again. "Why the change? The first four victims were waitresses. What was the trigger to moving onto working women? And what made him devolve faster? The time between killings is getting shorter and shorter, but this was just too fast in comparison to the others'. "

Officer Hughes nodded. "And there were no sexual aspects to any of the murders. Before this murder, we assumed that he had some sort of vendetta, but.. This changes everything. Our initial profile is wrong."

"Back at square one." Our conversation drifted off and I found myself staring at the woman's blank eyes again. If only I could use magic right now, I could see the last few minutes of her life. The unsub probably wouldn't concern himself with concealing his face after he had her under control since he was a muggle, but we weren't allowed to use magic on these cases for fear that we would be found out. Such a stupid law! And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it right now since I didn't have any pull or power.

I growled softly in anger and turned away from the body. I then spent a good portion of an hour studying the rest of the scene before walking out. Hawkeye fell in step behind me as we walked to the police cab.

'_What do you think, sir?__'_

'_Our profile's wrong. He's not __some sort of__ sweeper. There's something we're missing.__ Let's go over what we know again.' _I got into the driver's seat as Hawkeye hopped into the passenger's seat.

'_Serial killer and not a rapist. In fact, no sign of any sexual components to the murders. The brutality suggests rage but no marks to the face: it's not personal, so no revenge motive.' _ She paused as we got to the station and I continued.

'_But he's smart. Hasn't been caught yet, and it takes some skill to blitz attack these women, so he has to be somewhat athletic, but he doesn't have confidence that he can charm them to follow him. There's been no magical components either, so clearly not a wizard.' _Wizards were generally flashy, so any crime against a muggle was fairly obvious by just looking._ 'He also has to have some skill and knowledge of the human body what with how he…'_ I fought the urge to hurl again and coughed instead and I heard Hawkeye make a similar sound; no doubt in response to my thoughts. _'He takes their organs but leaves the kidneys.' _My mind flashed back to the body and how the chest cavity was forcibly opened.

'_Medical knowledge.'_ We walked in and went to our respective temporary desks, nodding to a few of the other officers with whom we were acquainted.

'_Right. But not enough to make the cuts on the first body without hesitation. Maybe like a med student who dropped out before getting to cadavers.'_

'_Or maybe he was uncertain because it was his first kill.'_

'…_There is that… But the way that the chest was opened suggests lack of knowledge. It wasn't done very.. neatly.'_

'_...But why the organs? And why leave the kidneys?'_

'_I have no idea… And with the change in victimology.. the only thing that was the same before was their profession and sex; otherwise, they were of different race, religion, age... There is something we're definitely missing. Maybe they all went somewhere similar… We need more gen and we need to start on this as if it were a new case.. Dammit! If only we were allowed to use magic. Bloody damn laws.'_

'_Maybe he was only experimenting, ramping up to the real target. Waitresses are fairly easy targets: late hours, frequent pubs after work…'_

'_Depending on the restaurant, yea, I would agree with all that, but then why leave out cooks?'_

'_Usually not female.'_

'_Right… Doesn't fit victimology.' _I sighed; this was seriously starting to give me a headache. Oh, I'm so going to curse that bastard into oblivion when I get my hands on him! _'Dammit all! I feel like we're just running in circles!'_

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes to try to calm myself as I felt Hawkeye glare at me from the desk across from my own. At least we were in the station; she couldn't take out her wand and curse me like she would do back at Hogwarts, and no, it did _not_ make me feel any better that she had a gun. Unlike me, she seemed to have developed quite the hand for the weapon - to the point where she could rival any of the detectives in the shooting range. I, on the other hand, could only hit a target consistently if it had a 30 cm diameter.

Actually, a shooting range was sounding pretty tempting right now and I would have gone except that I could feel discontent roll off Hawkeye like waves of heat. I sighed heavily. Why did she have to be such a taskmaster?

"That woman is going to kill me one day." I muttered as I resigned myself to the piles of paperwork waiting for me. It really sucked being the newbie: they always shove all the boring clerical work at you.

I think I was an hour in when my eyes attempted to shut of their own volition. Gods, I hated paperwork; it was so _boring_. If I had to look at another complaint of a stolen mp3, phone, or something else, screw the no magic law! I'm going to make a new crater right here!

I growled to myself and slammed the pen down and looked to see how Hawkeye was doing and if maybe I could dump some of my work on her; she had always been more patient with the paperwork than I.

Instead, I came face-to-face with a different woman. It took me a moment to realize that it was a photo.

"Isn't she pretty? Doesn't she just make your life so much better?" I back-pedaled from the photo and looked towards its owner who was sitting on the edge of my desk waving around his precious photo and kissing it intermittently. "Oh! I can't wait for today to end so I can go home to her and kiss her" – smooch – "and tell her how beautiful she is and how she's like an angel who descended upon earth!"

I could feel myself go slack-jawed from surprise as he continued his tirade… and then I could feel myself getting very… _very_ annoyed.

"HUGHES!" But even that wasn't enough to stop him.

At that moment, I very much regretted introducing myself to him some hours earlier. It was like I'd mentioned earlier: muggles can be _very_ creative with what they have, and he was no exception.

He was a bloody mastermind in torture techniques.

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><p>Been watching too much Criminal Minds lately -_-;; ..should I be changing the rating to M?<p>

Sorry for any errors, grammatical and otherwise; I'm rather unfamiliar with the police system in England… or rather, crime in general except for what shows up on tv.. OTL

I also don't know what to call Mustang and Hawkeye's unit, so any suggestions would be nice :D (I also realize that the summary is fail.. I need help with that too.. *sigh*)

And this is my first time writing crime/mystery.. so hopefully it doesn't fail.. (I hope the killer is somewhat interesting, at least.. I spent a lot of time thinking about him…and then freaking myself out.. *failed*)

Please lemme know what you think! :D

~razra


	3. Kidneys

**Code of Hammurabi**

**Kidneys**

I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache. Of course, it _never _occurred to me that it was because of a certain obnoxious officer yesterday…

I groaned and blinked blearily at the clock. 4 AM. Fantastic. Another sleepless night.

I rubbed my eyes as I padded into the kitchen and started to rifle blearily through the cupboards looking for the coffee I bought the other day. Unfortunately, I couldn't use a picker-up potion because of the damn rules, so after being introduced to the dark liquid at the office, I found that it was a rather tasty muggle drink with similar effects as the potion though perhaps not as effective...well, tasty when it was brewed correctly, anyway.

_The bloody hell? Could have sworn I bought the dam- ah, there it is._ Satisfied, I quickly brewed a cup and sipped on it, proud that I didn't have to rely on magic this time. Slowly, my mind wandered from my latest dream ("I DON'T CARE, HUGHES!") back to the case.

Five murders. Five bodies… and not a damn clue who the bastard was.

I sighed, rubbed my eyes again waiting for the caffeine to kick in, and then opened the case file for the umpteenth time.

Double slashed throat… Kind of overkill… not that opening the chest and taking organs wasn't, but at least that was determined to be post-mortem.. nothing in the tox-screen, so how was he gaining control of the women? There were no defensive wounds…

There had to be something… maybe it was something that's normally not tested in the tox-screen? Then it would definitely not show up… but to narrow that down would be impossible without more knowledge. After all, there are an infinite number of poisons...

Maybe there was some clue in the rooms? But the room I saw was just a normal woman's room: jewelry, make-up, some flowers (foxglove, I think?), clothes, photos, et cetera. The other rooms… Well, they were certainly different, but nothing that stood out.

The other woman... There was nothing particularly different or similar about their locations... Although, one of the detectives had been bothered by the petals; they were present at some crime scenes, but not others. Then again, they had been dumped near flowers... so petals wouldn't be-

My thoughts were interrupted as someone clapped my door. Putting down the files and cradling my coffee, I went to answer the door… and then tried to shut it.

"Aww, Roy! Don't be like that!" Damn. The bugger stuck his foot in the door before I could shut it in his face.

"Go away, Hughes! And _how_ did you find my flat?" I made a quick retreat back into my kitchen as I felt my headache get worse. Perhaps the only thing stopping me from running out of the flat and screaming down the streets were the stares I would receive and the permanent damage to my pride… or what was left of it after Hawkeye had multiple shots at it.

But if he starts waving that photo again, I just might…

Almost in slow motion, I watched him reach into his jacket pocket. _Oh no.. No.. Nonononononono.._

Fortunately or perhaps unfortunately considering the person, there was never a chance to pull out the photo as a disgruntled Hawkeye clapped sharply at the door. She nodded to Hughes in greeting then leveled a sharp look at me. "Mustang, we're going to be late." I shivered and hastily packed up my files. Now there was something else to fear. Grabbing something to chew on, I pointedly ignored Hughes as I made a manly retreat from my flat.

At the office, people were clustered together, gossiping about the murderer and office romance. How those two mix, I have no idea, and I don't want to know.

Looking down at my desk, I suppressed a groan. Why is there MORE paperwork? I HATE paperwork! Damn things multiply like rabbits! So tempting to just burn it all and pretend I never saw them.

I plopped down onto my chair. How do they expect me to learn anything at all if I'm stuck doing meaningless paperwork all day long? I let out a long suffering sigh and let my mind wander to the case again (THAT was far more interesting than any stupid paperwork). By now, I didn't even need to look at the files anymore; I felt like I had them all memorized.

Before I could continue the train of thought from the morning, a thought that had been eating at me finally surfaced with a vengeance: why kidneys? Just what was so significant about that organ? Maybe there was some meaning… or function...

I shoved the offending paperwork away and turned to use the computer and proceeded to poke it. Sighing, I massaged my temple and tried to recall how to use it. Hawkeye and I had a crash course in electronics, which was far more detailed than any Muggle Studies class at Hogwarts (seriously, they need to find someone _qualified_ to teach that class!), but I hadn't had a chance to absorb any of that information. All I could remember from that day was staring blankly at the speaker as my brain crisped into charcoal.

Slowly reviewing the class (and sneaking peaks at my notes), I managed to get the computer to work and googled "kidney." Quickly skimming the Wikipedia article, a few points stood out: "regulatory role," "homeostatic function," and "removes waste." There were a few other things as well, but these really got my mind turning.

Propping my head up with a hand, I started to brainstorm. Maybe this guy was a sweeper? Maybe by leaving the kidneys, he was trying to represent the removal of waste? But… who was the waste and what was he removing it from? Society?

I felt like I hadn't moved from square one. Unless…

Yes, that was the only way in which everything would fit.

_'Hawkeye...?'_

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><p>Short chapter… sorry -_-<p>

And I don't feel like putting anymore laws at the top because I'm too lazy to read through them *shot* Maybe next time...

So, any theories?

~razra


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